"And in the outward air again
I filled with woes the passing
wind."
-Wm. Blake
Angel mine
arrive, arrive
in an evening haunted
of Summer's presage-
upward there, the cornering thunder
strives and whitest
flashes alight
the cool sky/
Dusk drawn spectres.
-T. Byron Kelly
5/17/2002
Revised
7/3/2008
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